Don't Stop Believin'
by ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome
Summary: Santana and Brittany meet in college, and gradually realize their feelings for each other with help from some friends. College!Brittana, yay. M for later chapters. Review if possible!
1. Chapter 1

**AU College!Brittana. Just read like a gazillion college fics and they, for the most part, kick major ass. So, I decided to write one! Yay. I am promising you right this instant, it will NOT be abandoned. So if you think I'm going to, you have my permission to send me bubotuber pus in the mail. (If you don't know what that is, you should go read Harry Potter. Like, right now.)**

**Also, nerd!Santana and smart!Brittany. Two of my most favoritest things ever. :D**

**ANYWAY, enjoy this. And review if possible! Reviews keep me motivated. ;)**

Santana stands as straight as she can, which is still pretty slouchy from years of trying to appear as small as possible, as she stares into the mirror. She's never been this nervous, not even on the first day of high school. Her stomach feels tight, her teeth seemingly unable to stop chewing her lip. She's checked and double-checked everything, making sure she has her bag, wallet, phone, and glasses, but she still has that unshakeable feeling that she's forgotten something. With a sigh, she forces herself to leave the dorm, wanting time to explore the campus before her first class. She looked around briefly while visiting the college, but didn't have the time to really get to know it.

She triple-checks her dorm number, making sure to write it down on her hand in case she forgets which one it is before heading down the two flights of stairs to the front door of the building. Once outside, she studies her campus map intently, orienting herself in the proper direction and setting off toward the science department. Her first period is free, but she thinks it's probably wise to be near her first class so she doesn't get lost. Her stomach twists as she passes a few students on the sidewalk, all of them joking and laughing with each other while she walks alone.

It doesn't help that they're all taller than her, too.

She finds herself desperately wishing for a friend, but none of the few people she knows were nerdy enough to get into Yale with her. She's kind of glad for that; none of them were really her friends, and even they teased her to a certain extent. She's never had a real friend; she's somehow too smart, shy, and socially awkward to attract any potential relationships.

She's never been kissed, either, but no one needs to know that.

She checks her scuffed, well-worn watch, relieved to see that she's still got fifty minutes before she's due in class, but speeds up a little anyway.

She circles around the science department and comes face-to-face with the athletic fields. The jogging track is huge, and there's a few people running it, while six guys play a casual soccer game on the field. She watches for a minute, smiling a little at their antics, before walking away to check out the other side of the building.

Her second-period class, organic chemistry, is one of the five advanced pre-med classes she's taking. Her parents are doctors, and ever since she was little, entering the medical field herself hasn't really been an option for her. She was in Glee club freshman year at McKinley High in Lima, Ohio, but quit because of the constant put-downs from the other members. She loved the club; singing and dancing was a kind of escape from her neglectful home life, where she lived with her distant parents who she rarely saw. However, she never got solos and was constantly shoved to the back of the dance numbers. After quitting, she stopped singing and didn't dance unless it was required in gym class. She kept her head down and tried not to be noticed by any of her peers.

/…/

Her first chem class was easy; the professor spent the hour telling Santana and her fellow classmates what to expect from the advanced course, and didn't assign any work. He even lets them out five minutes early, so Santana takes her time walking toward the commons, where she saw a little sandwich truck parked that morning. When she reaches the large paved area, however, she groans when she sees that it's not there, figuring it must be a breakfast truck only. She turns around, annoyed, and almost slams right into another girl. She yelps a little in surprise and then blushes instantly.

"I'm sorry," she stammers, her face burning.

"No, that was my fault," the girl says kindly. "I was right behind you."

Santana nods awkwardly, having no idea what to say next. "Um, I should, um, go…" she tries.

"Bye," the blonde says, smiling a little, as Santana ducks her head and speedwalks away, embarrassed.

/…/

She wakes early at her alarm the next day, and throws back her covers, stretching and rubbing her eyes. She puts on some clothes and slips on her sneakers, and pulling her hair back into a ponytail without bothering to brush it. She grabs her glasses, phone, and water, and heads out the door.

It's barely after seven, and the crisp air is refreshing and cool. There are only a few people around, and she avoids them easily. When she reaches the track she walks a lap, and then breaks into a jog, feeling an immediate rush as soon as the brisk air begins to rush over her face. She'd forgotten how much jogging calmed her until she saw the track yesterday; after quitting Glee club she started running (alone, of course) after school every day that she could. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, when the McKinley track team met, she jogged through the woods, not wanting to attract and snide comments about her athletic ability.

After two laps, she's starting to get into a rhythm, and is so in the zone that she almost has a heart attack when she glances to her right and sees a pretty blonde girl jogging silently beside her. Her face flushes when she realizes it's the same girl she almost knocked over the previous day. Before she has a chance to escape, however, the girl looks over at her and instantly smiles.

"Hey."

Santana slows to a walk, the girl matching her strides easily, her long legs perfectly balancing her tall, well-muscled body. "Hi," Santana says quietly. "I'm really sorry for running into you, yesterday, I just—"

The girl laughs lightly, looking at Santana with amusement, and Santana notices her eyes; they're basically blue, but tinged with green and brown undertones, making them appear darker and more complex. Santana breaks eye contact after a moment, however, feeling uncomfortable.

"You're still worried about that?"

Santana looks down at the concrete, shrugging a little.

"It's no big," the girl says. "I'm not here to yell at you for it or anything. I just recognized you and thought I'd say hi. You look like you might need someone to talk to."

"I—well—" Santana feels like an idiot for her babbling, but she can't seem to get her mind organized while still staring into those eyes. The girl laughs again, and Santana wrenches her gaze away with difficulty.

"I'm Brittany," the girl says unexpectedly, sticking her hand out under Santana's nose so she has no option but to take it. She grips it clumsily, noting how soft Brittany's hand feels against her own, and has to force herself to drop it after a few seconds. Brittany's smirking a little, but her face is still gentle as Santana chokes out her own name in response.

"Are you a freshman?" Brittany asks. Santana nods. "I'm a sophomore," Brittany continues. "What are you taking?"

"Pre-med classes," Santana mumbles. "Organic chemistry, biology, physics, English, and Calculus 3."

"Wow," Brittany says, impressed. "That's a lot of work. So you want to be a doctor?"

"Yeah. Well, my parents are, and so I am," Santana replies quietly.

"But is that what you want?" Brittany presses, and Santana whips her head around to look at her.

"I—" She's completely taken by surprise. "I mean, I—I guess…"

"Never been asked that question before?" Brittany says sympathetically, and Santana really doesn't know what her angle is here.

"I want to succeed," she says firmly. "I saw my parents excel in their work, and I don't want to fail."

"Who says you'll fail?" Brittany asks, and there's genuine curiosity in her voice. "If you can master _those_ courses, you can handle most other things. I just think that everyone should do what they _want_ to do and what interests them, rather than what people tell them to do."

Santana is silent, digesting Brittany's words as she walks slowly along the track.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping," Brittany says suddenly, her voice chagrined. "It's just that I was in your situation, but I made the choice to do what _I_ wanted, instead of what my father wanted me to do, and it was the best decision of my life."

Santana looks up. "Why?"

Brittany sighs. "My parents divorced when I was four. My mother moved to Europe with my little sister and I lived with my dad up in Maine. My mom was unemployed most of her life, but my dad was a pretty well-known lawyer. James Pierce? You may have heard of him; he tackled a lot of large cases. Anyway, I think he didn't want me to end up like my mom, so he started pushing for me to go to law school. I never wanted to, that's my idea of hell." She laughs for a third time. "It wasn't until I was in high school that I realized that there may have been other, better suited options for me, and I was a junior by the time I decided what I wanted to do."

"What?" Santana asks, finding Brittany more interesting the longer she talks.

Brittany shrugs. "Dance," she says softly, looking back at Santana. "Sing. Act. If I was a lawyer I'd do okay, but my passion is for art. Since I was a little girl, I've always loved performing, but I never had the balls to say it out loud because I knew my dad wouldn't support me, and I was right. He said he wasn't paying for "some artsy nerd school" and if I didn't want to be a lawyer I should just suck it up." She sighs. "I called my aunt that night, who was a fairly successful singer; she had a couple albums out and had been singing all her life. When I told her about my dad, she immediately said she would help me find my dream. And she did." Brittany smiles, and Santana sees how truly beautiful she is, the sun glinting off her white teeth and reflecting in her eyes. "She told me about Yale's awesome drama department, and I applied. I got a scholarship. I guess they liked the fact that I kept a straight-A average throughout my entire school career, and took acting classes every year. I was in Glee club also."

"I was in Glee, too," Santana smiles. "It sucked for me though."

"Where are you from?" Brittany asks.

"Lima, Ohio. I went to McKinley High."

"I didn't even know there was a Lima, Ohio," Brittany giggles. "Did you like it?"

"Hell no," Santana says, feeling more comfortable the longer she talks. "I lived there all my life, and it was terrible. The school was full of homophobic kids who threw gay people into dumpsters, and there was a ridiculously low success rate. I doubt there were more than twenty people in the whole school who actually went to college."

"I wouldn't do too well there, then," Brittany says seriously. "I'm just lucky my school was so gay-friendly, because it would _really_ suck to be tossed in the trash."

"You mean you're—?" Santana is surprised; she has absolutely nothing against gay people, but she's never seen someone be this open about it before.

Brittany nods. "Yeah. I've always been out. I mean, I started feeling different when I was about thirteen, and by sophomore year I knew I liked girls." She blushes a little, her cheeks turning a pale pink. "I didn't make a point of going around yelling it, but I didn't hide it, either. I just knew it was who I was, and I knew I couldn't change it, even if I wanted to."

"Would you if you could?" Santana asks gently. Brittany looks at her thoughtfully.

"No," she says finally, "I wouldn't. I love who I am, and I've met some amazing people along the way, so I'm pretty happy with my life so far. I think the choices I've made are the right ones for the most part, and allowed me to become a much more…_whole_ person, if you get what I mean."

Santana nods. "I understand." She pauses. "Your whole story is really interesting. I'm sorry about your dad, but it's great that you had someone who helped you do what was best for you." She hesitates again, wringing her hands a little. "I don't want to be a doctor," she admits suddenly. "I want—I want to be a singer."

She surprises herself, but knows as soon as she says it that it's true. Just like Brittany, art is her passion.

"Then become a singer," Brittany says, and Santana meets her gaze again. Brittany's twinkling eyes are full of encouragement and happiness. "You only live once, you know. Make the most of the time you have. Life's too short to spend even a second of it doing something that doesn't make you happy. I learned that from experience in high school. If you become something you don't want to be, you'll be miserable. Do you really want to waste your life being a doctor when your heart is in music?"

Santana has never seen such honesty and wisdom in someone before, especially not a college girl, but she has to admit that Brittany's words make much more sense than anyone else's.

"I—I don't think I can," she whispers. "I don't even know if I'm any good, I don't have money for lessons, my parents wouldn't support me, Yale doesn't have a strong singing program, I—"

"Hey," Brittany cuts her off. "If this is really what you want, you're willing to work for it, right?"

"Right," Santana mumbles. "I just don't know what to do."

"Maybe I could help," Brittany says. "I've never had singing lessons, and dancing is what I do the most, but I think my ear's pretty good."

"You mean…sing for you?" Santana is skittish about letting anyone hear her sing; she's not confident enough in her abilities to risk being ridiculed.

"Why not?" Brittany asks. "Tell you what, I'll sing too."

Without waiting for an answer, she launches into "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. Santana is taken aback by her confidence, and keeps her mouth shut tight. Brittany finishes the first few lines, and Santana notices that her voice is sweet and on key, which only makes her less likely to join in.

"Are you going to sing, or what?" Brittany says. Santana blushes and shakes her head a little.

"Fine," Brittany says, eyes sparkling mischievously. "I won't stop until you start. You're going to be awfully sick of Journey in a few days if you keep refusing to sing with me."

Santana's mouth falls open, and she trips over her own feet. _Is she screwing with me?_ Is all Santana can think, but she doesn't have time to question it because Brittany taps her watch, says "You should get going," and bounces off with a wave.

Santana gapes like an idiot for a minute before checking her watch and seeing that she's due in class in twenty minutes, and she still has to shower, change, and get her stuff together. Damn.

/…/

She sets her alarm half an hour earlier than the day before, and makes sure she has her stuff stacked by the door so she can get in and out of the dorm as quickly as possible after jogging.

She hasn't been able to stop thinking about Brittany since she met her the day before; her smile, her beautiful eyes, her honesty and intelligence, and most of all, her sweet, kind personality. Santana already likes her a lot, and for some reason, when Brittany said she was gay, Santana felt something, like hope. At the time she didn't know why, but after lying awake for hours the night before, she forced herself to admit that she _liked_ Brittany. Like, a lot.

Santana had never had a boyfriend, but she'd had crushes. However, this didn't feel like the ones she'd had on boys. When she "liked" a boy, she felt normal, except she made a point of glancing up at whoever he was every ten minutes or so if they had a class together.

This was different. She feels light, and even more ridiculously self-conscious than usual. She also has the urge to wear something other than running shorts and a t-shirt over a sportsbra.

With a sigh, she pulls her shorts up her legs, and a Super Mario Bros. themed shirt over her head. She laces her sneakers tightly, runs a brush through her hair (there's nothing wrong with looking a little more presentable), and leaves the dorm. She keeps an eye out for Brittany as she makes her way to the track, not knowing how early she gets there. When she comes around the science department, however, a flash of blonde hair catches her eye, and she recognizes Brittany immediately. She's doing sprints next to a blonde-haired boy with a shaggy Beiber cut; they're laughing as they time the sprints and playfully tackle each other to the ground. Santana can't stop the huge grin that spreads over her face as she walks down the hill to the track, waving as Brittany yells hello to her. She runs up to Santana, stopping breathlessly in front of her.

"Hey," Santana smiles.

"Hi!" Brittany says, leaning forward to give Santana a hug. Santana is taken aback, she can't even remember the last time someone hugged her, but it feels really good, and she gives Brittany a squeeze. The boy jogs up to them, and Brittany pulls back to introduce him. "Santana, this is my friend Sam. Sam, this is Santana."

Sam nods to her and smiles as her shakes her hand. "Nice to meet you," he says kindly. "Britt's told me all about you."

"I have _not_, Sam, shut up," Brittany says quickly, her face flushing crimson. Sam shrugs.

"Whatever. Hey, nice shirt." He nods to Santana. She glances down, having forgotten what she's wearing, and then blushes.

"Oh, thanks. You like video games?"

"I'm a boss gamer, yo!" he says, nudging Brittany. "Britt and I have game night on Fridays. I brought a portable TV and my Wii to my dorm just in case things get boring." He winks. "Mario's, like, the best ever."

Santana nods. "Super Smash is good too."

Sam turns to Brittany. "Finally, a sane person!" he says. "All Brittany wants to play are those weird assassin war game thingies."

"Mario is overrated," Brittany replies. "Those deer-hunting games are _awesome_."

"Such a lesbian," Sam teases. Brittany shoves him playfully, and Santana laughs, her eyes on Brittany.

"Are you a sophomore?" she asks Sam.

"Yep," he nods. "I've known Britt since seventh grade, and we went to the same high school. It's awesome that we got into college together, 'cause she's my only friend. Except for you now, of course," he adds. "Everyone was too scared of my gaming skills to get to know me."

Brittany rolls her eyes. "No, more like they were too afraid of catching "freakish-Mariokart-addict-with-_no-game_ disease."

"Hey!' he protests. "You're just jealous."

"Sure," she says, and Santana smiles at their easy friendship, wishing she had someone she was that close to. She feels herself hoping that she'll become closer to both of them. Sam seems like a great guy. She likes him more and more as the three of them fall into an easy conversation about video games, which leads to college courses, as they walk slowly around the track. Santana can't seem to drag her eyes away from Brittany; her golden hair is down today instead of in yesterday's tight ponytail, and it falls just below her shoulders, bouncing as she walks. Her eyes keep flitting across Sam, walking between them, to Santana, and then dropping when she sees Santana looking at her. Santana blushes every time she's caught, but she can't seem to help herself.

Santana checks her watch, and sees that she has to get back to shower. "I have to go now, sorry guys. I still need to shower and get my stuff before class," she says reluctantly.

She doesn't miss the way Brittany's face falls a little, but then lights up quickly when Sam invites Santana to come over on Friday to play video games, and she can't control the little flutter she feels in her stomach at the idea of Brittany not wanting her to leave. Both Sam and Brittany hug her, Brittany holding her just a little closer.

"Hey, Santana," she says when she pulls back. "Wanna eat lunch with us today?"

Santana smiles. "Yeah," she says, and hates the way her voice sounds: overeager and a little breathless. "I'd love to."

"Cool," Brittany grins widely. "Can I have your number, so we can decide where to meet?" she asks, a little shy.

"Sure," Santana hopes her grin isn't as big as it feels as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and swaps with Brittany, naming the new contact "Santana Lopez." She takes her phone back to see "Brittany Pierce" in her contact list, and smiles even wider. She gets Sam's number as well, and then departs with a wave, walking quickly back to her dorm. She glances back once to see Brittany watching her go, and lifts her hand once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who favorite/alerted my story, and ESPECIALLY those who reviewed! Keep it coming, people! ;)**

**Special thanks to Meech0831 for suggesting the title name!**

**Here's chapter 2. Glad you're all enjoying it so far, and I hope you continue to. I know this chapter's pretty short (about 1,500) but I updated super quick, so. **

Santana receives a text halfway through her third-period English class, jumping slightly as her phone buzzes in her pocket. She's not at all used to being texted, so the vibration comes as a surprise and she immediately hopes its Brittany and not her mom or something. She discreetly slips it out of her pocket and opens the text under the desk, glad she chose to sit near the back that day. She can't contain her grin when she sees the message.

_hey Santana_ _its brittany :) what class are you in now?_

Santana smiles wider, noticing that her name is the only thing Brittany made an effort to capitalize, as she taps out a reply. _English. (Boring!) You?_

The reply comes within a minute, before Santana even has time to put her phone away. _musical theory…its ok but id rather be in the auditorium! want me to meet you outside the english department after class so we can go to lunch? :D_

Santana tries to hate herself for finding straight-A-student Brittany's lack of punctuation and capitalization kind of adorable, but she can't. It's too cute. Also, she loves the way Brittany's texts always have smileys in them, like she's actually _happy_ to be texting Santana.

_Sounds awesome!_ Santana replies. _Where are we going?_

_its a surprise :) just wait and see!_

Santana shakes her head at the cryptic message, stashing her phone back in her pocket and attempting to return her attention to her teacher.

/…/

The class runs late, and for six minutes Santana worries about keeping Brittany waiting outside. When the teacher finally dismisses them, she bolts out of the room and immediately sees Brittany lounging on a bench a few feet away. She looks up at the sound of the door opening and her face breaks into a grin upon seeing Santana.

"Hey!" she bounces a little, waving enthusiastically. "Santana! Over here!"

Santana's face twists into a bashful smile, a little embarrassed but still happier than she's ever been. "Hi Brittany," she says, and savors the hug the blonde gives her. "Sorry I'm late, the teacher was assigning ridiculous amounts of work and it took ages to copy down."

"No problem, you're worth it," Brittany smiles, and Santana blushes furiously. She's _really_ not used to this, but she's totally willing to learn how to be.

"Where's Sam?" she asks to change the subject.

"We're meeting him there. He has a computer class that's always at least fifteen minutes late." She shakes her head. "But knowing him, he probably just plays computer games all class and it doesn't really get out late at all."

Santana laughs, appreciating how easy it is to be around Brittany. She has such an open, funny personality, and she's ideal to talk to. "So where are we going?"

Brittany grins again. "It's _super_ cool. You'll love it," she says, and links her pinky through Santana's. Santana is a little startled at the contact, but doesn't resist it. Instead, she bites her lip to keep from smiling like an idiot.

/…/

The little restaurant is a hole-in-the-wall pizza place which Santana never would have noticed if Brittany hadn't pointed it out. Looking through the window, she sees that there can't be more than ten tables in the whole place, and only two are occupied.

"How on earth is this place still in business?" Santana asks incredulously. Brittany shrugs.

"Probably because it's the best pizza you'll ever have in your entire life. And that includes New York."

Santana sighs. "God, now I _really_ want to go to NYC."

"You're never been?" Brittany looks surprised. "God, you need to get your ass over there ASAP. Best place ever, bar none."

Santana's about to respond, when she's suddenly attacked from behind. "Sam!" she shrieks, as he tackles her.

He cracks up, and she gives him a dirty look.

"_So_ immature," Brittany says.

"Such a _child_," Santana teases.

He pretends to be offended, hanging his head and sniffling pathetically before they cave and reach to hug him, Brittany ruffling his hair affectionately. "You need to get this cut, Sammy. How can you even see anything?"

He sweeps his hair back. "It's called _style_, Britt," he says, and leads the way inside with his nose in the air. The hostess shows them to a table, and Sam sits down and immediately begins stuffing his face with bread. Brittany pulls out Santana's chair, smiling at her before turning to Sam and saying, "See, I have manners. Ever heard of those?"

He shrugs noncommittally and reaches for the cheese shaker. Brittany confiscates the bread basket. "You'll spoil your appetite," she smirks.

"Who are you, my friend or my mom?" he grouses, but returns the shaker to its holder anyway.

"More bread?" the waitress inquires when she comes to bring them water.

"No," Brittany says firmly, at the same time that Sam says "Yes!"

"_No_," Brittany repeats. "No more bread, Sam."

She turns and winks at Santana, sitting beside her. Santana loves watching Brittany tease Sam, and knows that she can too if she wants without being given funny looks or having a slushy thrown in her face. She grins back at Brittany, glad to have gotten to know both of them.

"Guess what," Sam says suddenly.

"Oh God," Brittany says instead of answering. "Please, you are _not_ about to gloat about beating those Chinese kids on Mariokart, because I'll have to leave the table."

Santana chokes a little over her water. Sam ignores Brittany.

"Santana, you know who Quinn Fabray is, right?"

Santana shakes her head. "Never heard of her."

Sam looks confused, until Brittany says, "She's only been here two days, Sam."

Sam looks excited. "Well, she's the prettiest girl in school—"

"I resent that!"

"—and the most popular, and she's the head cheerleader on the squad, _and_ she's a junior, _and_ she's super hot—"

"You already said that, Sammy."

"No I didn't, I said pretty."

"Same diff."

"Wait, what's the difference between hot and pretty?" Sam muses.

"Good, he's distracted himself. Now run," Brittany stage-whispers to Santana.

"I asked her out, and she said yes!" Sam exclaims suddenly.

There's a silence. "Did you guys get that? I'm dating _Quinn Fabray_."

Brittany shrugs. "Good for you, Sammy."

He gapes a little at them. Santana coughs. "Congratulations?" she tries.

He nods at her, and glowers at Brittany. "You jealous or something, Pierce?"

"Psh, no," Brittany scoffs.

"What, you like someone else now?" he prods, with half a glance at Santana. Santana's face feels hot suddenly, her heart beating quickly.

"Jesus, Sam, shut up," Brittany says, but she's smiling a little as she kicks him under the table, making sure not to look at Santana.

/…/

It's definitely the best pizza Santana's ever had, and it's even better because her two friends are with her, fighting over the parmesan and having pizza-stuffing-in-mouth competitions (Sam always wins, his mouth is about four times the size of anyone else's). Santana thinks that the hostess is rather glad to see them go, especially after Sam knocked both his and Santana's Dr. Peppers onto the floor in a fit of sudden Sean Connery impersonations.

"I gotta ask Britt a question real quick, Santana," Sam says. "We'll catch you up at that bench over there, okay?"

She nods and sits at the bench, watching everything happening around her. After a moment, they come back, Brittany looking a little greenish. She smiles nervously at Santana. Sam nudges her forward with his shoulder.

"Hey, Santana," Brittany starts, glancing back at Sam, who nods, "Um, I was just wondering if you'd like to get dinner sometime?"

Santana's mouth falls open, and Brittany backtracks quickly. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's totally cool too. I mean, forget I even—"

"No wait, hang on." Santana can't really believe that Brittany asked her to dinner. "Did you just—?"

"Yes, she did just ask you out," Sam supplies helpfully, grinning like an idiot. Brittany blushes.

"Well, sure," Santana can't control her smile, and Brittany looks up, her face mirroring Santana's.

"Awesome. I'll text you, okay?"

"Yeah," Santana nods shyly, trying to ignore the fact that Sam's smirking his head off behind Brittany.

They all walk back together, Santana and Brittany stealing glances at each other. When the three of them reach Santana's dorm, Sam waves and keeps walking, but Brittany stops. It's a little awkward for a moment, and Brittany seems to struggle with herself before reaching to place a quick kiss on Santana's cheek, and then walking away with a wave and smile, leaving Santana swaying in the doorway, hand slapped over her cheek, eyes wide, and mouth curved into a giddy grin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two updates in a day! I had absolutely nothing to do today so I decided to spend most of it writing. How I love lazy Sundays.**

**Thanks so much for all your reviews/favorites/alerts. It really makes me more motivated to write when I receive email notifications that say New Review.**

**Here's chapter 3, enjoy!**

_Brittany_ is the only thing Santana thinks about for the rest of the day: walking back to class after her lunch break is over, during physics and calculus, in her dorm that evening.

It's close to eight o'clock that night when her phone buzzes on the table.

_hey, you free tomorrow night for dinner?_

_Sure am :) _Santana replies, her heart fluttering a little in her chest, her fingers dancing over the keys on her phone.

_ill pick you up around six then, if that's ok?_

_Six is great. See you then!_

_i cant wait!_

Santana drops her phone and flops back onto her bed, forgetting about her calc homework for a minute. She's going on a date with Brittany tomorrow. Santana Lopez, wildly unpopular high school geek, is going on a date with a beautiful girl. Her phone buzzes again, and she scrambles for it.

_hey again! so sorry but i just found out i cant be at the track or at lunch tomorrow, i have to make up a big test for a teacher :( ill miss you!_

_That's fine, Britt :) See you tomorrow night! _Santana is rather touched that Brittany will miss her, and bites her lip before adding a heart and sending the text before she can change her mind. She laughs out loud with happiness when a heart is sent back her way.

/…/

She goes to the track the next morning, even though Brittany isn't there, and jogs alone, happier than she's ever been. After forty minutes she calls it quits, panting as she lifts her arms behind her head and heads back to the dorm, chugging her water once she has enough breath to do so. She walks up to her dorm and is busy fishing her keys out of her pocket when she almost trips over a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doorstep. She picks them up curiously, her heart melting when she sees the note attached.

_Can't wait to see you later. Wish I could have met you on the track this morning! Dress up tonight. -Britt_

It's such a sweet gesture that she almost cries. No one has ever been this kind to her, and it feels really good to be liked. She gets showered and dressed in a haze, and almost kills herself slipping on the wet floor because she was too distracted to turn the sink off and flooded the bathroom. She curses as she throws as many towels as she can find onto the inch of water that covers the floor, and shuts the door firmly before leaving for class, making sure the flowers have enough water in the vase she provided for them. She feels like she's high as she practically skips to class, humming a little under her breath. She remembers Brittany's promise to get her to sing, and wonders if she'll actually belt out that Journey song until Santana joins her. She doesn't pay much attention to any of her classes that day, and grabs a sandwich from a deli and eats at a bench in the park, wishing Brittany was with her.

As soon as her last class is out at four, she runs to her room and begins frantically searching for something nice to wear. _This is the time when you really need a friend_, she thinks desperately, as she pulls clothes out of the dresser, inspecting each in turn until she find a couple of dresses. They're nice, and fit well. The one advantage to having workaholic doctors for parents is that you can afford decent clothes.

She holds up the two dresses, comparing them indecisively. One is red with black trim, the other white with black. She decides on the white one, and heads to the bathroom to put on makeup. She doesn't usually wear much, so she applies eyeliner and mascara a bit clumsily, experimenting with a couple of different lip glosses before choosing a pale one.

She glances at her phone and sees that it's quarter to six. She feels her nervousness coming back and reaches for her hairbrush. She realizes that Brittany's never seen her with her hair down, and hopes she'll like it, because the dress looks funny with a ponytail. She brushes it until it's free of tangles and cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves. She takes her glasses of and squints at her reflection in the mirror, wishing she had contacts she could wear instead. With a sigh, she slides them back onto her nose and paces back and forth in front of her small couch, checking her phone every thirty seconds for texts even though she has it set on vibrate.

She almost dies when there's a soft knock on the door, and she opens it to reveal Brittany standing right outside her door, smiling tentatively. She tries to keep her jaw from falling open when she sees ow pretty Brittany looks; she's wearing a light green and blue dress that makes her eyes look even more intense, and in her hand is a single white rose.

"Hey," she breathes, finally locking eyes with Brittany.

"You're beautiful," slips out of Brittany's mouth, and she immediately blushes, her fingers twirling the flower nervously. "I—this is for you," she stammers, holding it out to Santana, who takes it in awe.

"What for?" she asks stupidly.

Brittany looks down. "I don't know. I like you?" she tries, making Santana's face flush bright red.

"Thank you," she forces out. "You look amazing, by the way," she squeaks.

"Thanks," Brittany says modestly. "Ready to go?"

Santana nods, and shyly accepts the arm-link that Brittany offers. "So where are we going?"

"This really awesome noodle place. Is that cool?" Brittany sounds worried.

"Sounds good," Santana says softly, looking up at Brittany and trying to pluck up the courage to say something else. "It doesn't matter where we go as long as you're there," she stutters, her face warm. Brittany smiles in happy surprise and squeezes her arm.

"You're sweet," she says. "It's just around the corner by the park."

Santana nods and they walk in companionable silence, occasionally breaking it to ask a question or make a comment, but generally just quietly enjoying each other's company. When they arrive, Brittany holds the door for Santana and pulls her chair out before sitting.

Santana doesn't believe she's ever blushed so much in her life.

They pick up their menus, and Brittany says, "Have whatever you want. It's on me."

"Brittany—" Santana protests, but Brittany cuts her off with a smile.

"I'm taking you out to dinner. Of course I'm paying. A gentleman _always_ pays on the first date, remember?"

Santana giggles. "Butch much?"

Brittany pretends to flex. "What, you callin' me a girl?" she teases in a ridiculously deep voice, and Santana cracks up.

"Okay, _sir_, I'll let you pay. But next time it's my treat." As soon as he words are out of her mouth she wishes she could take them back; it feels presumptuous to assume they'll be going out again, but Brittany just smiles happily and engages her in conversation.

/…/

About halfway through the meal Brittany's hand twitches and moves forward a few inches as if reaching for Santana's, but she thinks better of it and swallows hard instead, wishing she was brave enough to just take the girl's hand. She passes off the movement as a reach for the salt, and Santana doesn't seem to notice.

/…/

They decide against dessert, opting instead to take a walk through the park. They're talking about nothing in particular when Santana feels Brittany's hand snake into hers, holding it tightly and tangling their fingers together. She gasps a little at the new sensation, but smiles up at Brittany quickly, her cheeks hurting from repressing a huge grin. Brittany giggles a little and holds her closer.

They walk slowly through the small park, leaning against each other and not talking. Santana listens to Brittany's quiet breathing, unconsciously timing her own to match. She suddenly remembers how Brittany wanted her to sing, and briefly considers it before deciding not to. Much as she likes Brittany, she's still chicken, so she settles for squeezing Brittany's hand and leaning her head on her shoulder with a contented sigh. Brittany switches her hands so that she's holding Santana's right with her own right, and drapes her left arm over the Latina's shoulders, pulling her into her body. Santana cuddles closer, loving this new contact. Brittany ghosts her lips over the top of Santana's head, breathing in the smell of her shampoo.

"Your hair's really pretty when it's down," she says softly.

Santana smiles. "Thanks. So is yours." She reaches up to touch Brittany's blonde hair lightly. "Wow, it's so soft."

Brittany reddens, but looks happy. Santana slides her left hand into the one Brittany has slung over her shoulder, pulling her closer.

They walk quietly back to Santana's dorm, where Brittany stands nervously to face her. Santana feels her heart rate pick up, wondering what Brittany will do.

Brittany takes her hands, leaning in slowly. Santana closes her eyes, waiting breathlessly. Suddenly Brittany mutters, "_Ow_," and jerks back.

Santana's eyes fly open to see Brittany blinking. "Your glasses stabbed me," she says, suppressed laughter in her voice. "My eyes were closed, and I forgot you had them."

"Stupid things," Santana mutters, embarrassed.

"I think they're cute," Brittany says softly. She lifts her hand and gently pulls them off, her hand stroking Santana's cheek as she does so, and tucks them into the front of her dress before leaning in again. Santana's eyes are closed when Brittany's mouth presses lightly against hers before retreating. Her eyes open and she looks at Brittany, smiling.

"My first kiss," she says quietly, glad for the wall behind her holding her up.

"Your—? Oh, Santana," Brittany says, before her mouth is on Santana's again, for longer this time. She pulls back for half a second before kissing her again, openmouthed and slow.

"You're a good kisser," is all Santana can force out, her lips tingling and mind reeling from the sensation.

Brittany giggles low in her throat. "So are you. Sure you've never done this before?"

"No," Santana says, a little sadly. "Never."

Brittany looks sympathetic. "Well, a lot of people have missed out, then," she says, and it's so sweet of her that Santana can't resist leaning in for a fourth kiss. They kiss for a few seconds before Santana feels something at her lips the she recognizes as Brittany's tongue; Brittany runs it gently over Santana's bottom lip and Santana opens her mouth a little to let her in.

Brittany's tongue in her mouth is the most amazing thing she's ever felt. It's velvety smooth and warm, and she loses herself in the feeling of Brittany's and her own touching inside her mouth. She doesn't know how long it is before they break apart, but her back is numb and her hand is in Brittany's hair when their mouths part. Brittany grins a little sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"What the hell for?" Santana asks incredulously.

"Tonguing you after the first date."

"God, Brittany, don't be sorry. That was super awesome."

Brittany grins. "Good. It was super awesome for me too." She leans down to capture Santana's lips in her own once more before straightening up, and handing Santana her glasses back. "It's getting late. I should go," she says regretfully.

Santana sighs. "Yeah."

"Goodnight," Brittany says softly, kissing Santana's cheek.

"'Night," Santana replies, watching her walk down the hall, dizzy with happiness.

**A/N: God, why are they so sweet? **


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh my God, I'm so inspired today. Ridiculous. Oh well, its fun, and I don't notice anyone complaining (except my mother**—**"Get your ass out of that chair!"), so. ;)**

**Enjoyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!**

Santana gets about four hours of sleep that night; the rest is spent reliving the feel of Brittany's lips against her own over and over. A year ago, she would never have thought that she'd be where she is today, lying in bed at Yale after kissing a girl (and kind of loving it), and really starting to think she's gay too. She smiles into her pillow, twisting her hands together and remembering how Brittany took her hand.

By two in the morning, she's seriously debating whether Brittany puts drugs on her lips before kissing her. (Not that she's complaining.)

She drifts off around three, her seven o'clock alarm coming much too early for her liking. It only takes a self-reminder that she's seeing Brittany at the track to make her leap out of bed. She yanks random clothes over head and hesitates before leaving her hair down, and walking out the door.

/…/

Brittany's leaning against the steps leading down to the track, watching a soccer game, when Santana comes up behind her and taps her shoulder.

"Hey."

"Santana, hi!" Brittany says, grinning and taking her hand. "I wanted to meet you, so I waited here."

"Thanks Britt," Santana says quietly, touched.

"Wanna play some soccer?" Brittany asks, motioning toward the field.

"_Soccer_? I don't think you want to see me try to kick that ball, Britt."

"Come on, it's easy," Brittany says, pulling Santana down the stairs and running toward the field. Santana loves the casual way Brittany is holding her hand, as if they've been together longer than two days. They're almost to the field when there's a shout behind them, and they turn to see Sam jogging up to them.

"Sorry, I overslept."

"So what else is new?" Brittany asks, but she's too busy smiling at Santana to make a face at him. Santana sees him glance at their clasped hands for a moment before grinning at them.

"You guys still coming over tomorrow for game night?"

"Yeah," Santana says. "I just hope you're ready to lose."

"No way. I'm the master." He beasts his chest comically, his longish hair falling over his eyes.

"So how's it going with Quinn?" Santana asks, remembering his announcement.

His face lights up at the name. "Awesome! Well, we haven't actually been out yet, but she's smokin', so."

Brittany snickers. "My girlfriend's hotter," she says smugly, pressing a kiss to Santana's cheek. Santana turns a deep red, and Sam cracks up.

"Whatever."

/…/

Brittany picks her up on Friday night so they can walk to Sam's room together. As soon as Santana closes the door to her dorm behind her, she reaches up on her toes and kisses Brittany. Brittany is surprised, but kisses her back enthusiastically.

/…/

Santana does beat Sam, in Mariokart and Super Smash while Brittany cheers her on. After a while, Santana goes to sit beside her on the couch and tries to teach her how to play. Brittany completely fails at Super Smash, but turns out to be surprisingly adept at Mariokart, especially on the bikes.

"It's the motorcross training," Sam says. "It's not _natural_ gaming skills."

Brittany throws her controller at him.

"You do motorcross?" Santana asks with interest.

"Yeah," Brittany says. "I've tried to get Sam on the bike a few times, but he's too chicken."

"No, I'm not; I'd just rather keep my looks."

Brittany bites her tongue in favor of turning to Santana. "I could take you on a ride on my bike sometime. If you wanted."

"That'd be fun," Santana says quietly, wishing they were alone so she could kiss Brittany. "Have you been doing it for a long time?"

Brittany shrugs. "Since I was ten. So, yeah."

"Cool," Santana nods. "Where do you do it?"

"Well, I have my own bike that I keep in a garage a few minutes away from here. I go out whenever I have free time and just ride around."

"Sounds kind of scary," Santana admits. "Don't you, like, fall a lot?"

Brittany laughs. "It's just like riding a regular bike. I mean, you have to get used to it but its _way_ better than a car."

Santana blushes as she envisions herself sitting behind Brittany on a motorbike, holding her waist as they speed along the road.

"We get out early on Tuesday right? For the teacher work-thingy? We could go out for a ride, and then I could take you to dinner," Santana says shyly.

Brittany grins. "That sounds awesome. Bikes are great."

Sam crunches a Cheeto noisily, and Brittany jerks up into a sitting position from where she had been leaning in to Santana, smiling guiltily.

"You know, if you guys really wanna make out or something, I'm not paying any attention," Sam pipes up, his staring eyes contrasting with his statement.

"Nice try, Sammy," Brittany says scornfully. "Perv."

He shrugs. "I'm a guy. And Quinn's super religious. She won't even let me touch her boob, so I'm kind of going stir-crazy."

"Then why on earth are you dating her?" Brittany says.

"Um, cuz she's _hot_, duh," he says, acting like Brittany's completely clueless. She rolls her eyes.

"Quinn formed the Celibacy Club last year," Brittany says to Santana. "She's, like, _super_ conservative. Freakish."

"I thought you _liked_ her," Sam teases.

Brittany snatches the Cheetos from his hand and reaches into the bag. "First of all, I never _liked_ her. I just thought she was hot. Which yeah, she is. But Santana's still hotter. Second, you better have another bag of Cheetos in your room, because you only left me two in here."

He tries to grab the bag, but she calmly spins to the side and he face-plants into the couch. Santana is still recovering from the second time Brittany's called her hot. (Hotter than the most popular girl in school.)

"I don't have any more," he whines. "I _need_ those."

"You invite us over for games and you don't even provide refreshments?" Her eyes grow wide, and she leaps off the couch. "Deer-hunting time."

He groans as she puts in the disc, and they spend an hour playing the game, which is actually pretty fun in Santana's opinion, especially when Brittany totally owns it. She's hot when she's prancing around in her "victory dance," and Santana's pretty sure both her and Sam might be staring at Brittany's legs. The only difference is that she forces herself to look away after Brittany tells Sam to quit his leering.

"Santana's allowed to stare at me, but only cuz she's my girlfriend," Brittany says importantly, and Santana inhales a mouthful of her own spit as she gasps a little.

"Why are all the hot girls either gay or religious?" he says grumpily.

"Karma." Brittany apparently has an explanation for everything. Santana really tries not to stare at her boobs, but she's so inexperienced at hiding her gazes that Brittany catches her again, smirking a little but not saying anything. Santana blushes.

/…/

**A/N: If I were you, I'd load up "Just a Kiss" by Lady Antebellum to listen to here. It's kind of perfect.**

They leave Sam's dorm past eleven that night, giggling and stumbling over each other in the dark on their way to Santana's. Outside the dark under the tiny door light they pause. Santana reaches up tentatively to trace the curve of Brittany's cheek, and the blonde closes her eyes, letting out a sigh. Santana shivers and reaches up to kiss her, their lips molding perfectly together. Brittany's tongue on her lips feels familiar, even though it's only the second time, and she accepts it into her mouth easily, pushing back a little with her own tongue and gasping when they meet. Brittany giggles a little, the vibrations traveling between them. They kiss lazily for a few minutes before Santana feels Brittany's hand slowly traveling up her stomach towards her chest. She jerks back a little when it brushes the underside of her breast, and Brittany's eyes grow wide.

"I'm sorry!" she says quickly. "God, Santana, I'm sorry—"

Santana laughs nervously. "You just surprised me, that's all." She pauses. "You can—you can touch me if you want to." She chances a glance at Brittany, and sees her blush.

"You sure?"

Santana nods, and pulls Brittany's head down close to her own. "I trust you," she breathes, seeing Brittany's eyes soften perceptively in the dim light.

Brittany tilts her head to meet Santana's lips in a gentle, openmouthed kiss. Her hand moves slowly and Santana almost dies of anticipation. Brittany's hand on her breast feels better than anything she's ever felt before, and she smiles into the kiss, dragging her own hand up to Brittany's chest. Brittany's breast is soft and warm, and she caresses it gently, feeling her body heat up under Brittany's touches.

"Santana," Brittany squeaks out. "You're good at this. _Damn_."

Santana puts her other arm around Brittany's waist and holds her closer, deepening the kiss. She knows they should go, but she can't resist Brittany's kisses, especially when they move to her jaw line. She tilts her head back a little, groaning slightly at the feel of Brittany's lips on her neck. She's never felt this before, and once again she feels amazingly lucky to have finally found someone. And as Brittany's forehead falls to her own, she kind of thinks she's falling in love.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys. I've been super jet-lagged from flying across the country so I needed a couple days to recover (sleep). Haha, here's an update.**

**Enjoy!**

_Come over for breakfast!_

Brittany's text comes in just after ten, and Santana smiles instantly upon seeing it.

She doesn't think she's ever showered faster in her life. She only stays in long enough to wash her hair. Shaving her legs again, even though she did yesterday, seems like a pretty good idea too. She gives up on blow-drying her hair after ten minutes; it's way too thick to be dry in any less than an hour, so she wraps a towel around it as she searches for clothes. She drags her underwear on and pulls a shirt hastily over her head, almost forgetting her pants in her rush. She knocks lightly on Brittany's door a few minutes later and smiles when it's opened in less than ten seconds.

"Santana!' Brittany says happily. "Come in, I'm making pancakes."

Santana gladly accepts the hug Brittany bestows upon her before following her to the tiny kitchen, where a pan is sizzling.

"Sit," Brittany instructs, pointing to the little table right behind the stove. "These are really quick. Want orange juice?'

"Sure," Santana blushes. "It didn't occur to her that Brittany was _cooking_ breakfast, but it feels kind of awesome to sit at the tiny little table while Brittany stands at the two-burner, miniature electric stove cooking pancakes in a dorm room. She watches Brittany across the stove, enjoying how her face changes expressions as she flips the pancakes, trying not to destroy them. When she slides three onto each plate, Santana sees that they're perfect.

"Wow, those look good," she says, impressed, accepting the plate and thanking Brittany.

"I worked as a waitress in a diner the summer before senior year," Brittany says. "So the proper pancake formula was drilled into my head more times than I could count." She sets down some butter and syrup and joins Santana at the table. "God, I'm hungry."

They make small talk while they eat, Brittany asking more about Santana's high school and Santana wanting to know about New York. The more Brittany talks, the more jealous she gets.

They taper off after a while, falling into a comfortable silence. Santana giggles when Brittany smears her finger over her plate to catch the syrup, but is not so amused when Brittany reaches across the table to smudge a little over Santana's cheek.

"Brittany!" she shrieks.

Brittany cracks up. "You're adorable."

Santana blushes violently, reaching up to wipe it away, but Brittany catches her hand. "I'll get it," she says softly, and the mood shifts palpably.

Santana looks at her as Brittany reaches up to gently wipe away the stickiness with the pad of her thumb, lingering on Santana's cheek a little longer than is probably necessary. Suddenly she leans forward and captures Santana's lips in a quick kiss, and she tastes like butter and sugar. Santana leans into the kiss, bringing her hand to tangle in Brittany's hair. Brittany tastes so good that she can't resist dipping her tongue into her mouth and tasting pancake. Brittany giggles a little before pulling away. "That was fun."

"Yeah," Santana breathes, pulling her in for another.

/…/

Santana's shocked when Brittany reaches into her mini-fridge, yanks out a bottle of whipped cream and catches Santana full in the face with it, but it's not long before she grabs it from Brittany and gets her back. Brittany looks so ridiculous standing in the kitchen with whipped cream dripping from her face that Santana has to laugh, so Brittany takes advantage of her temporary weakness and gets the bottle. She brings Santana to the floor, laughing as Santana whimpers "truce!" all the way, until Brittany relents and agrees. Santana breathes out a breath of relief but as soon as she looks up her face is obscured by the huge amount of syrup being splashed on it, followed by what is unmistakably more whipped cream. As a final touch, she feels Brittany smash something soft onto her head, which she figures is the stick of butter that was recently sitting on the table. She sits on the floor, trying not to give Brittany the satisfaction of seeing her laugh, and blindly reaches for the girl, her eyes shut tight to avoid getting syrup in them.

"I will _get_ you so bad, Brittany Pierce," she yells, her hands groping but closing on only air. After a second she runs face-first into a cupboard and hears hysterical laughter from behind her. She spins and promptly slips in the butter on the floor, falling on her ass. She chooses not to stand, but instead crosses her arms and waits. It's only a few seconds before Brittany sits down beside her and Santana feels a cloth on her face.

"Sorry," Brittany giggles. "You were just there_, _and it was so _perfect_, and—" She's cut off by Santana ramming the three-quarters stick of butter straight into her face. She sits for half a second before throwing the cloth down and leaping up. "Okay, Lopez, you _really_ shouldn't have done that."

Santana grins and grabs the cloth herself, wiping her eyes so she can open them. She sees Brittany standing in front of the stove, hands on her hips, and butter smeared all over her face, a few clumps hanging from her hair. Santana cracks up all over again and Brittany huffs.

"You're so obnoxious," she gripes, running her hands through her hair and coming up with a handful of butter.

"_I'm_ obnoxious?" Santana chokes, wiping a trickle of syrup out of her eye. "You started it!"

"Yeah, but still."

Santana shakes her head. "Nice try. Truce?"

"Truce," Brittany agrees, coming forward warily to shake hands. Santana grasps Brittany's and is immediately pulled to her feet. She only has a second to be surprised by Brittany's strength, however, before they're kissing and she forgets everything else. After a second Brittany pins her so they're sloppily making out against the stove. It's kind of amazing, standing in the kitchen, covered in whipped cream and making out with a girl's hand up her shirt, and Santana loves it all. When they pulls away, Brittany only has time to smile before Santana's kissing her again, this time taking the lead and letting her hands wander.

/…/

Twenty minutes later they've cleaned the kitchen and fought about who gets to shower first. Santana wins and she stalks off to the bathroom with her nose in the air, trying to contain her laughter. Brittany hands her a shirt and shorts, her own face struggling to keep from breaking. Santana laughs all through her shower, and when she gets out she realizes that Brittany's given her the most ridiculous clothes to wear: a pair of hot pink shirts with "DIVA" written across the butt in curly writing and a shirt that says "Save the Unicorns!" on it in front of a prancing white horse. Santana pulls them on, noticing that they're huge on her, before walking out to the kitchen, where Brittany promptly bursts out laughing.

"Nice look," she smirks, and Santana scowls.

"Thanks, Britt," she says, and Brittany shakes her head and bounces off to the bathroom.

/…/

Brittany takes a while in the shower, so Santana sits down on the couch and rifles through a magazine while she waits. When Brittany arrives in the room and sits next to her, Santana can't believe how hot she looks; her hair is wet and tousled, her while cotton shirt is mostly see-through, and she's not wearing pants. Her underwear has ducks on it, and Santana fights to keep her eyes on Brittany's face.

"Hey," she manages.

"Hi," Brittany says, glancing at the magazine. "That's from like 2006, you know."

"Yeah," Santana says, replacing the copy of _People_ back on the table. Brittany kicks her feet up and leans back, smirking a little.

"Best food fight ever," she chortles. "I'll never forget how your face looked covered in whipped cream."

"_I'll_ never forget how your _head_ looked covered in butter!" Santana retorts.

"Whipped cream on you was pretty hot, actually," Brittany says. Santana blushes and Brittany shakes her head. "Why do you always look like that when I compliment you?" she asks curiously.

Santana looks down, biting her lip. "I don't really…get complimented," she says quietly.

"Why not? You're like, the most awesomest girl in college."

Santana shrugs. "Never been with anyone before," she mumbles, and Brittany takes her hand and squeezes it.

"You have me now," she says gently, and kisses Santana softly.

/…/

"So have you thought at all about your classes?" Brittany asks a while later when they're sitting close, Santana's feet on Brittany's lap.

"What about them?"

"Remember the first day we met on the track, and how we talked about dreams?"

Santana sighs. "I don't wanna be a doctor, but I don't think I can disappoint my parents like that, Britt. I just…can't."

"I know," Brittany says quietly. "I just don't think you should throw your life away just to do what they expect you to do."

"Who says I'm throwing my life away?" Santana says, a little irritated.

Brittany shrugs. "I'm sorry," she says, placing a hand on Santana's knee. "I just want you to be happy."

Santana reaches for her hand. "That's really sweet."

Brittany doesn't answer, but instead starts singing "Don't Stop Believin'" softly.

Santana rolls her eyes. "I'm not singing."

Brittany ignores her, and she finishes the song herself. "You'll regret it," she says, her eyes searching Santana's face, and Santana knows she isn't talking about being sick of the song.


	6. Chapter 6

**So sorry for the delay, I've been super busy! Enjoy this chapter, it's a bit longer.**

Sam calls Santana on Saturday night around six and asks if she and Brittany want to hang out with him and some friends later. She agrees, glad to spend time with Sam; he's adorable in his nerdy way and she likes him. She's also curious to meet Quinn.

Brittany swings by with Sam at seven, looking hot in skinny jeans and a white tee. Santana takes the hand that's offered to her, blushing as she nods to Sam and receives a smirk in response.

"You lovebirds ready to meet some of my friends?" he says excitedly.

"If they're anything like you, I might need to run back to my dorm for earplugs."

Sam ignores Brittany and leads the way down the stairs. "Ever been clubbing, Santana?" he asks.

"_Clubbing_?' she says, alarmed. "No…"

Brittany squeezes her hand encouragingly. "It's fun, you'll see." When Santana still looks doubtful, she adds, "it's Drag Queen Saturday at Scandal's. Best day of the week."

Santana gapes. "You're bringing me to a _gay bar_?"

"Well, normal bars are boring," Brittany says reasonably. "You'll have fun, I promise."

"Okay," Santana says slowly. Sam grins.

"Even I have fun there," he says.

"Only cuz you get to see chicks making out," Brittany says icily.

"That's not why!" he protests, but Brittany cuts him off.

"Whatever, Sammy. Just don't embarrass me, if that's at all possible for you, okay?"

He nods meekly, and Brittany smiles. "Good boy."

/…/

They pile into Brittany's car, a dented blue Jeep. Brittany bows low as she opens the passenger door for Santana, giggling at Sam's sour expression as he clambers into the backseat.

/…/

Santana's really starting to think she's about to make a fool out of herself when they pull up outside of the bar. She's never been to any type of bar in her life, and she has absolutely no idea what to do with herself.

She's confused as to why Brittany's handing her an ID card until she realizes it's fake.

"Why's my name…Alejandra San Diego?" she asks, baffled. Brittany grimaces.

"Remind me never to let Sam get our IDs again, will you?"

Santana looks over her shoulder to see "Muffin Sunshine," and cracks up. Sam's doubled over with hysterical laughter behind Brittany, choking on his own spit. Santana grabs his ID and sees "Biff Jackson."

"Sam, why on earth did you choose that name?" she asks, trying not to laugh.

"What's wrong with it?" he asks.

Brittany glances at it and laughs. "Wow, Sa—I mean, _Biff_."

"That's a _cool_ name!" he protests.

Santana deliberately avoids Brittany's gaze and clamps her mouth shut.

/…/

Brittany takes Santana's hand reassuringly as they walk up (well, Santana and Brittany walk; Sam struts with his chest puffed up) and doesn't let go as they enter the building, showing their ID's to the bored-looking man at the door.

Inside, everything is loud and bright, and every surface seems to be occupied by drag queens. Santana holds Brittany's hand tightly as they walk up to the bar, where Sam immediately plops down next to a pretty girl whom Santana assumes is Quinn and throws an arm around her shoulders. She looks a little uncomfortable, sliding closer to a dark brunette with a large nose sitting on her other side. Sam doesn't seem to notice, too busy beckoning Santana and Brittany over. Brittany, smiling, pulls Santana over and Sam turns back to Quinn.

"This is Quinn," he announces, with the air of a servant introducing his queen; his eyes are wide and his face is covered in a dopey grin. "Quinn, this is Brittany, and Santana." Quinn smiles tightly and nods at them. Brittany nods back and Santana just stands there, her face a little warm.

Luckily, Brittany notices Santana's embarrassment and turns to the brunette sitting beside Quinn. "Santana, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is my girlfriend Santana.'

Santana's face is bright red. _Brittany introduced me as her girlfriend_ is all she can think as she shakes Rachel's hand politely.

"This is Tina," Brittany continues, smiling at a short Asian girl on Rachel's left.

"Hey," Tina says politely, shaking Santana's hand. "I've heard a lot about you from Britt."

"Good things, I hope?' Santana says with a smile.

"Of course," Tina winks, and it's Brittany's turn to blush. Ignoring Tina and avoiding Santana's gaze, she moves on to the next person.

Santana meets Rachel's boyfriend Finn next, who immediately strikes her as an ass. Brittany seems to think so as well; she has a look of disdain on her face as she stiffly introduces him to Santana before moving on. Santana meets Puck, a mohawked guy who can't take his eyes off the two girls kissing on the pinball machine behind him; Artie, a wheelchair-bound kid who's playing on a DS; and Rory, an awkward Irish boy whom no one can understand over the pounding music. Brittany also points out Kurt and Blaine dancing together on the floor, Mike, executing some decent pop 'n lock, and Sugar, a drunk-looking girl in a fluffy green cardigan waving her arms around while she yells along to the Katy Perry song playing.

"They're a crazy bunch," Brittany says with a shake of her head. "But they're old friends, mostly from Glee club, and I love them all," she adds fondly. Santana smiles.

"They seem cool, except for Finn."

Brittany shudders. "God, what a little bitch. He's the most obnoxious guy I've ever met."

"Why?" Santana asks with a laugh.

"He's selfish, greedy, always moaning about something irrelevant, and he's not that nice to Rachel either," Brittany says. "He treats her like property, and I don't know why she's still with him." Brittany lowers her voice, smirking a little. "She and Quinn are fooling around, anyway."

Santana is shocked. "_Really_?"

Brittany cracks up. "Caught them once in Rachel's dorm. It was hilarious."

Santana gapes at her, not finding it very funny. "But…that's cheating."

"So? Finn deserves it," Brittany scoffs. "I tried telling Sam but he didn't believe me, so he'll just find out for himself eventually."

There's a pause while Santana watches the mob of dancers on the floor, moving together to the beat.

"Let's go dance," Brittany says suddenly, pulling Santana toward the floor. Santana plants her feet.

"I don't dance," she says, panicked.

(Actually, she does, but not in public.)

"Yes you do," Brittany says. "Let's go."

Brittany is surprisingly strong, and pulls Santana into the crowd with ease. Santana sees everyone grinding on each other, and feels her heart racing, not sure if she can deal with Brittany dancing behind her like that.

Luckily, Brittany pulls Santana to face her, and places her arms gently on Santana's waist with a reassuring smile. "Stop worrying, you're fine."

Santana relaxes after a while, her arms around Brittany's neck, swaying with her in time to the heavy thumping of the beat. The DJ merges the songs together without a break, so Santana has no idea how many sings they've danced when Brittany offers to buy her a drink. She accepts, following Brittany to the bar.

/…/

She's about to ask for a Sprite when Brittany orders two drinks, one regular and one virgin. She expects to receive the non-alcoholic one, but Brittany hands her the regular, and she gets nervous for a second before forcing herself to relax. She's never had a proper drink, but she's willing to try.

"Designated driver," Brittany explains as she gives Santana the glass, and Santana nods and takes a sip, choking a little at the taste. "First sip of vodka?" Brittany asks sympathetically, and Santana blushes yet again.

"Maybe," she admits quietly.

"It's cool," Brittany says. "Like it?"

Santana shrugs. "It's okay."

"Want something else?" Brittany asks kindly. "Soda? Water?"

"No thanks," Santana says. "Wanna go dance?"

Brittany grins. "Let's go."

/…/

A few minutes in Brittany circles around to stand behind Santana and place her hands on Santana's slim hips.

"Is this okay?" she murmurs in Santana's ear. Santana nods and Brittany stands as close as she can, holding Santana's hands and kissing her neck lightly.

Santana's never been so turned on in her life.

She tilts her head a little to allow Brittany's lips more access, pressing her body backwards into Brittany's. They dance close (grind? Santana wonders, not quite sure what defines that) for a long time, until Santana can't feel her legs.

They stumble, laughing, back to the bar, where Santana gropes for her forgotten drink and takes another sip as she plunks her ass down onto a stool next to Sugar. Brittany sits next to her and fishes a cherry out of her own glass.

Santana decides alcohol tastes better when you've just been dancing for two hours. She finishes it and Brittany taps the counter, gesturing toward Santana, and the bartender slides another drink toward her. Santana nods thanks and sips it, trying to stay out of range of Sugar's flailing arms.

/…/

They leave around one, Santana drunk and leaning on Brittany as she staggers her way toward the car. Sam's still hanging around Quinn, probably trying to get into her pants.

"That was fun," Santana laughs, grinning like a fool. "Am I drunk?"

Brittany snickers. "Yeah, you're drunk."

Santana reaches up to place a sloppy, wet kiss on Brittany's cheek. "It's fun."

"It won't be fun tomorrow morning, honey."

Santana giggles. "Hmm?"

"Never mind," Brittany sighs, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Here's the car."

She bundles Santana into the backseat, strapping her in and locking the doors. "Keep your belt on," she warns.

Santana nods faintly. "Yeah."

/…/

Santana falls asleep somewhere along the way, and wakes up to Brittany carrying her up the stairs. Alarmed, she clutches at Brittany's shoulders, disoriented.

"You're fine," Brittany says as she presses a kiss to Santana's hair. "I've got you."

She brings Santana back to her dorm and lays her out on the bed. "Do you want me to grab you some clothes? Your toothbrush?" she asks quietly. "Or do you just wanna sleep?"

Instead of answering, Santana mumbles. "Can you stay?"

Brittany stiffens a little. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You're really drunk."

"I won't try anything," Santana amends, her mind foggy. "Just sleep."

"Fine," Brittany says after a moment. "But you better not try anything, and I'm not staying unless you brush your teeth and lend me some PJs."

Santana laughs sleepily. "Top drawer in the dresser. And there's an extra toothbrush in the cabinet."

"Okay. I'll be right back," Brittany murmurs, pressing a kiss to Santana's cheek. Santana nods and burrows down into the pillows.

/…/

She wakes up the next morning with terrible breath, so she assumes she never brushed her teeth. She tries to sit up and her head stabs sharply.

"Shit!" she mutters, grabbing blindly for her glasses. "Damn it."

She shoves her glasses onto her face and rubs her temples as the room comes into focus. She almost has a heart attack when she sees someone in her bed until she remember Brittany slept over. She suddenly has the urge to shower.

She carefully climbs out of bed, wincing as her head pounds, and staggers to the bathroom. She avoids looking in the mirror as she turns on the shower and climbs in. The cool water soothes her headache and she slumps against the wall of the shower, relaxing.

/…/

She washes her hair twice, scrubbing it to get rid of the smell of alcohol, and smiling as she remembers the previous night, and dancing with Brittany.

She grabs a towel and drags on a clean t-shirt and underwear, checking her reflection as she brushes her hair. It's so tangled that it takes her half an hour to yank through it, and she uses her flat iron on it afterwards to straighten it out, not able to deal with it curling up later.

Brittany's still asleep when she walks back into the bedroom and Santana smiles at how cute she looks. Her eyes are shut tight, he arm hanging off the side of the bed.

Santana sits down next to her and gently shakes her awake. "Britt, wake up," she says softly. Brittany groans and rolls over, her arms encircling Santana's waist.

"Five more minutes," she mumbles into Santana's shirt. Santana giggles, and then winces when it shoots through her skull as a throb.

"Fuck!" she curses. "Stupid hangover."

"I'm sorry," comes Brittany's muffled voice. "Is it really bad?"

"Pretty bad," Santana says. "It sucks."

"It's your first one; they'll get easier," Brittany says sympathetically, raising her head. "Cold showers help."

"I just took one," Santana says.

Brittany blinks at her, noticing. "Your hair looks really pretty when it's straight."

"Thanks," Santana leans down to kiss Brittany sweetly. Brittany kisses her back lightly.

"Want something to eat?" Santana asks. Brittany opens her mouth but before she can say anything there's a knock on the door.

"I'll get it,' Santana says, and opens the door to see a worried-looking Sam standing outside.

"Um, hi," Santana says, confused as to what he's doing here.

He looks behind her and sees Brittany on the bed. His eyes widen. "Oh, um…sorry?" he tries. "I went over to Britt's dorm to get something from her and she wasn't there, so I—sorry. I didn't mean to…interrupt…or anything…I can—I can go…"

"What?" Santana says blankly, before something clicks. "No!" she almost yells. "No we're—we're not—"

"Oh, okay," he says, and looks simultaneously relieved and disappointed. "I'll see you later, then," he says nervously, backing away.

"Bye," Santana waves, shaking her head as she shuts the door.

"What did he want?" Brittany asks curiously.

"He was looking for you," Santana says, embarrassed. "He saw you though, so he left."

Brittany snickers a little. "I bet he asked to come in once he saw me sitting on the bed."

Santana manages a laugh as she sits down next to Brittany. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, a little," Brittany says softly. "Want me to make something?"

"No, I got it," Santana smiles. "If you want to change clothes or shower take anything."

"Thanks, Santana," Brittany reaches up to kiss her again before bouncing out of bed.

/…/

Santana throws a pan on the stove and turns on the burner, not sure of what to do next. She pulls some eggs out of the mini-fridge and cracks three into a bowl, spending ten minutes fishing eggshell fragments out with a spoon after she accidentally drops in a shell.

By the time she's finished, the pan is smoking on the stove and she realizes she's forgotten to add oil. She turns it down and pours about half a cup in, hoping it's enough.

She adds salt and pepper to the eggs and stirs them hesitantly before pouring them into the boiling oil on the stove. She expects them to cook, but the oil only pops violently, spraying up into her face.

She yelps and jumps away, not daring to go closer. Brittany hears her shriek and runs in, her hair wrapped in a towel, a tank top and shorts hanging off her frame.

She cracks up when she sees the oil-filled pan on the stove. "What's for breakfast? Canola oil with a side of boiled egg?"

"It's olive oil, actually," Santana sniffs. "And it's not funny. I'm trying to make you breakfast."

Brittany presses a kiss to her cheek on her way to the stove, where she turns off the burner and throws the pan in the sink. "I appreciate the sentiment, but next time let me help you, okay?" she asks, suppressed laughter causing her voice to shake. Santana crosses her arms.

"Fine," she sighs. "Wanna go get something to eat?"

"Sure," Brittany says, coming over to kiss her lightly, a smirk on her lips.

Santana sighs again. "Let's go."

/…/

Santana decides that she likes this better than eating in her dorm. They're sitting at a table for two in a small diner, sharing pancakes and orange juice. Their ankles are hooked together under the table, their fingers tangled as they sloppily eat breakfast; too busy looking at each other to care what they're putting in their mouths.

Santana giggles at the sudden happiness that rises inside of her when she sees Brittany sitting across from her. She has the sudden urge to pinch herself, to question whether this is really real. She can't believe that she's only been in college for a week and already she has a girlfriend whom she's currently sharing breakfast with.

She squeezes Brittany hand softly and grins at her.

"What?" Brittany asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Nothing. It's just that you're beautiful."

Brittany blushes violently, her fingers fumbling on her fork. "I—"

Santana cuts her off. "You're so perfect," she stutters out, not accustomed to giving compliments like this.

Brittany gazes at her dreamily for a moment before her face turns nervous. "Santana, I know we've only been together a few days, but I've never felt like this about anyone else before." She laughs a little. "Sorry, awful cliché. I mean, I just—"

Santana waits, chewing her lip anxiously. She's about to open her mouth when Brittany says it.

Those for simple words that really aren't simple at all.

"I love you, Santana."

Santana gasps a little, her fingers twitching over her fork. Brittany hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze, and they stare at each other for what feels like forever, Santana's mouth hanging open and Brittany's on the precipice of a grin.

"I love you, too," Santana says softly. "I really, really love you, Brittany."

Brittany's grin is infectious, and soon they're both smiling and laughing and throwing bits of pancake at each other until they decide to go for a walk in a park.

/…/

They wander leisurely through a small park, Brittany humming quietly under her breath, their fingers tightly intertwined.

It takes Santana a minute to get herself organized, but when she does, she opens her mouth.

"_Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world…_" she sings softly, her voice low and raspy with nerves. "_She took the midnight train goin' anywhere…_"

"_Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit…he took the midnight train goin' anywhere._" Brittany joins her, her eyes sparkling and her hand gripping Santana's.

They duet the nest of the song, Santana's voice becoming steadier and clearer as her nerves dissipate. Brittany doesn't judge her, only pulls her in to a tight hug when they finish.

"Your voice is amazing," she breathes when she pulls away. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make your dreams come true."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the delay! I'm such a procrastinator. **

**Enjoy this chapter! Thanks to everyone who favorite/followed/reviewed!**

**Also, no Sam/Brittany (Brittam? Sattany?) friendship in this chapter, but oh well. I ship them so much :P**

Monday morning Santana wakes up early, and for once is eager to get out of bed. She dresses quickly, brushes her hair, and jogs out the door, leaping down the stairs and sprinting to the track. She spends seven impatient minutes pacing at the top of the steps to the field before she sees Brittany coming toward her.

She waves, unable to control the huge grin that erupts over her face at the sight of the girl. "Britt!" she shouts. "Over here!"

Brittany waves back and bounces over to sweep Santana up in a hug. "Hey!" she squeals, pressing a discreet kiss to Santana's neck. "How are you?"

"Better, now," Santana laughs. "You?"

"Never better," Brittany replies, her eyes sparkling as she leans in to kiss Santana softly. "Love you."

Santana's grin widens with the casualness of Brittany's words. "Love you too," she says softly, kissing her. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Brittany says happily, taking her hand. "Race you to the track!"

/…/

The race to the track turns into a full-on sprinting match, which Brittany easily wins.

"_Not_ fair," Santana puffs, her hands on her knees. "Your legs are twice as long as mine."

Brittany giggles and tells her to put her hands behind her head so she can breathe better. Santana glowers, trying not to smile.

/…/

Brittany checks her watch. "We're gonna be late," she warns.

Santana curses. "I hate classes."

Brittany tilts her head a little. "You free later today?"

"Why?"

"You want a job, right?"

Santana nods.

"I found you one."

Santana's jaw drops. "What?"

"It's at a little bar next to that pizza place we went to with Sam. The owner says there're a couple different shifts available. I just thought you might wanna make a little extra money for…stuff."

"Yeah. Thanks, Britt," Santana says, grateful.

"No problem. I just saw the ad in the window. I hate bars, but I thought you might want the opportunity."

Santana pulls her down for a kiss. "Thank you," she mumbles against soft lips. Brittany kisses her back, openmouthed and slow. Santana reluctantly pulls away. "I need to go," she sighs.

"Can we meet for lunch? I wanna bring you somewhere," Brittany says.

"Of course. I'll meet you outside your classroom, okay?" When Brittany nods, she shyly adds, "I love you," and loves the way Brittany face lights up as the blonde repeats it back.

Santana pecks her lips once more before reluctantly turning to jog back to her dorm.

/…/

She suffers through her morning classes, and shoots off to meet Brittany as soon as the last bell rings. Brittany greets her with a kiss and takes her hand. "Let's go."

"So where are we going?' Santana asks, curious.

"You'll see," Brittany smiles.

She leads Santana into the music department, turning into the empty chorus room and smiling. "You're joining lunchtime Glee club with me!" she announces. Santana raises her eyebrows.

"Okay."

"Glee is one of my afternoon classes, and yesterday we decided we needed a second daily practice, so we're going to meet for lunch from now on. We also decided to make it open to everyone, so it's like a club as well as more practice for us."

"Sounds good," Santana says. Brittany grins and kisses her cheek as other people begin to file in, taking seats around the room, nodding to Brittany as they enter. When there's about twenty people arranged in a loose circle, the gay guy, Kurt, who Santana saw at the bar, stands and grins in front of the whiteboard.

"Welcome, guys!" he says prissily. "Please raise your hand if you're joining this lunchtime Glee club for the first time."

Santana and two other girls raise their hands. Kurt grins even wider, if possible, and bounces a little on the balls of his feet. "Excellent! Now, for you newcomers, this club was formed by the members of the Glee club class, because we need additional practice for competitions, and also because we'd like as many people as possible to enjoy the gift of music."

Brittany rolls her eyes. "This is just kind of how he talks," she mutters in Santana's ear.

"As you may or may not know, Glee club participates in a Sectionals competition in a few weeks. If we win, we proceed to Regionals, and then Nationals. We'll be performing three songs for the judges, two of which we've already decided. However, we are still in need of a finale number, so if any of you have an idea, we'd be glad to hear it. Now, Rachel and I—" he grins at the dark-haired girl Santana met at the bar, who smiles obnoxiously and stands to join him— "have talked to our teacher, Mr. Schuester, about whether members of lunchtime Glee club can accompany us in our competitions, and he agreed!"

Santana smiles nervously. Brittany giggles a little.

"Anyway," Rachel interjects, her grin so wide she looks diseased, "if you have any questions, just ask me or Kurt, and we'd be _overjoyed_ to help you out!"

"Or you can just ask me," Brittany smirks into Santana's ear. "It'd probably save you a lot of emotional scarring."

Santana chokes back a laugh, forcing herself not to look at Brittany as Rachel blathers on about something irrelevant. "So what do you guys do in here?"

"Ask Rachel," Brittany says, and laughs at the horrified look on Santana's face. "I'm joking. We _should_ be practicing, but I forgot my crowbar. It's the only thing that shuts Rachel up." She stands and waves at Rachel. "Hey, don't you think we should get going? We only have another half hour."

"Excellent point, Brittany!" Rachel gushes. Brittany raises her eyebrows. "I propose that we begin with my solo, which will undoubtedly secure our win, since it is _clearly_ the most impressive and attention-catching number we have ever performed."

"Whatever," Brittany sighs. "But can we first practice our group number? I think our new members might benefit more from practicing with all of us than watching you, um, sing."

"Fine," Rachel grumps. "Artie, do you have the sheet music?"

"I've got it," Tina says, holding up a stack of papers. "I paid a freshman to sneak in and make copies of Coach Sylvester's machine. It's the only one that works."

"Excellent, Tina," Rachel beams proudly. "Pass them out, will you?"

Santana takes her paper and sees "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" printed at the top. It sounds vaguely familiar, and she smiles.

"Places, everyone!" Rachel shrieks, seeing that the pianist has started and everyone is still standing around haphazardly. "This is practice!"

Brittany pulls Santana over to one side of the room. "Stand here," she instructs. "I'll be right behind you. If Rachel tells you to do something, ignore her."

"Okay," Santana says, a little freaked out as she takes her place. "What do I do now?"

"Follow me," Brittany says reassuringly. "I'll tap your shoulder, and then you just stay right behind me."

Santana nods and Finn starts singing. She holds her music and follows along, supplying background vocals when she hears Brittany do so. After a couple of minutes, she feels the tap on her shoulder and spins around, jogging after her girlfriend across the room. Kurt and Blains sing a line, and then Brittany does. Santana joins her, thinking that since Brittany s singing, she should too. It takes her exactly six words to realize that she and Brittany are the only ones singing, and she reddens and shuts her mouth. Brittany winks at her.

When the song is over, before Santana can say anything, Rachel pounces. "Santana! I can't say I expected it, but your musical instincts are wonderful!"

"I…um…what?" Santana is confused.

"Your voice and Brittany go amazingly together!" Rachel gushes. "I believe that the two of you should duet Brittany's solo line!"

"Sounds good to me," Brittany says. "Santana?"

"Um, okay," Santana says nervously.

"But I do think that you should harmonize instead of singing simply in unison," Rachel continues. "Santana, you'll take the lower part you see marked on the sheet music. Based on my _own_ flawless musical talent and instincts, I have decided that you are a natural alto, and will receive parts accordingly."

Santana looks to Brittany for help, not exactly sure what Rachel's talking about. Brittany sighs in exasperation. "Okay, Rachel, Santana and I will harmonize that line. Should we take it from the top?"

/…/

With a break for lunch halfway through practice, they run through Paradise a few more times, Santana less and less nervous each time. By the end of practice, everyone (except Finn and Kurt) seems thoroughly sick of "It's All Coming Back to Me Now," Rachel's solo, and there's a mad rush for the door once lunch ends.

"Rachel's a handful, but other than that how'd you like it?" Brittany asks.

"It was fun," Santana answers truthfully.

"Your first practice and you've already scored a solo at Sectionals," Brittany grins. "That's so awesome."

Santana grins. "I didn't think I'd want one, but I actually do. We sound good together."

"Yeah, we do," Brittany smiles softly. "Text me later, and I'll tell you more about this job I found, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Santana says shyly, and kisses Brittany goodbye.

"Love you," Brittany whispers against her lips. Santana can't stop the grin that spreads across her face. Now that they've broken this barrier, it seems only natural to say it at every opportunity.

"I love you too," she mumbles. "Thanks, Britt."


	8. Author's Note

Hey all! Since August 19-25 is BRAMTANA WEEK (!) I will be shelving this story just so I can write some stuff for that. As soon as that week is over, I'll pick it up again! Thanks :)


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